After the day’s end, when the sun loses power and the moon flicks on, you lay on your back and take in the beaming lights with a yawn on your breath,

counting the stars, holes poked through blue cellophane, until they expand into a blur and the life you’ve been living in a dream comes to focus.

Awake in subconsciousness you walk through the day, feeling every second, hearing every sound. You see people in all their diversity, you know their names. One foot in front of the other soon feels like a hundred, and whether you’re awake or asleep you’re unsure. Until a pivotal moment comes when you realize you’re in a dream and you can be and do anything. But don’t you feel that way when you’re awake? That you feel and sense everything, that you’ve made lasting friendships and forgotten a few, that you can do or be anything?

I’m awakening to the fact that I must’ve been

in a dream all these years, teetering on the edge of waking, liminal and sequestered. Unconscious to how the world really was until I woke up and finally knew. Is it all not just one giant lucid dream? Am I who I think I am to others? Who am I to think anything? Is it true that all this time I’d been asleep?

I’ve come to understand the more I experience, the less I can make meaning of my experiences, it only becomes more convoluted.

Is awakening not another state of dreaming?

Somethings I see around me don’t make sense even in my wildest dreams.

I guess a lesson you can take from your dream life is to live with less fear. Do and be what you could in your wildest dreams. Maybe life will start to feel more like a dream you create.